It ran on time. The VIPs were smoothly ushered in and out. The programme flowed without a hitch. The emcee sounded confident, crisp, completely at home.

“She’s such a wonderful event manager,” they told Paulina Henry, who was seated among them.

Henry smiled, saying: “Oh, she’s not our event manager. She’s our ex-student.”

That woman was Jemia – a mother of three from Pitas who, not long ago, had never worked outside her small town or even believed she was capable of much. Today, VIPs are saving her number.

And that, Henry said, is exactly why RiseBAH exists. A Sabah-based youth development and empowerment initiative, it helps young people rise where they are, not where they’re told they should be.

Spend five minutes with Henry and you’ll realise she doesn’t see rural Sabah’s youth as lacking talent. What they lack, she said, is access, exposure, and someone to walk them through the “what now?” of life after school.

“They can read, they are good,” Henry said of the youth she works with. “But they don’t know that they are good.”

That self-doubt, more than anything else, keeps them stuck. RiseBAH’s work is to gently, steadily push back against that doubt – until confidence takes root.

The organisation didn’t begin as a grand master plan. Back in 2016, it started as a CSR project tied to Henry’s former company. The team planned to visit rural schools in Sabah, offering free consultations and motivational talks. As the only Sabahan in the team, Henry was put in charge.

What she saw changed her.

Students didn’t know which courses suited them. Some chose careers simply because it was the only option they’d ever heard of. Others had talent but no roadmap. Something as basic as explaining pathways into tertiary education or job opportunities suddenly felt like a turning point.

“It’s such a simple thing and nobody’s actually doing it,” said Henry, now an international school teacher in Kuala Lumpur. “Someone has to do it.”

So she decided to be that “someone”.

The team began offering consultations for school-leavers, helping them map out tertiary options that matched their strengths and financial realities.

During the pandemic, they launched an apprentice programme that matched hundreds of youths with industry partners – giving them hands-on experience and a foot in the door when jobs were scarce and futures uncertain.

Today, RiseBAH empowers youths through vocational apprenticeships, seminars, courses and workshops.

But what truly sets RiseBAH apart, Henry said, is that they don’t disappear after a workshop ends. This is not a one-off programme. It’s a long-term support system – a steady hand at the back, guiding young people from their school days into working life.

For Henry, the mission is deeply personal. She grew up in Pitas herself and only left because of a scholarship. For years, she believed success meant moving away from Pitas. Now, she hopes the next generation can make better choices.

“You can actually make it in life just by being where you are, even though it is in a rural area,” she said.

That belief lives in the name itself: Rise Sabah – “rise where you are”.

And sometimes, “rising” looks exactly like Jemia.

She had no prior work experience, and no chance to discover what she was good at – not because she lacked ability, but because she lacked opportunity.

She couldn’t join the apprentice scheme due to family commitments, so she did the next best thing. She attended seminars and talks, even if it meant driving all the way from Pitas to Kota Kinabalu.

That persistence changed everything.

Despite RiseBAH’s growing impact, Henry never set out to be a community hero. Building her life in the Klang Valley, “giving back” wasn’t at the top of her mind.

Now, she simply hopes the work lasts – and grows.

“I want someone to continue it in the future, to expand it and make it even more useful,” she said, sharing her hope of raising a successor to take RiseBAH to greater heights.

Find out more about RiseBAH here. Follow RiseBAH on Instagram.